


Good Odds

by gala_apples



Series: If Love is a Mixtape [5]
Category: X-Men (Movies)
Genre: Atheist Character, Bigotry, M/M, Public Sex, Telepathy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-11
Updated: 2012-04-11
Packaged: 2017-11-03 11:04:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/380695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gala_apples/pseuds/gala_apples
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John has had a rough past, Bobby's scared he has no hope left, and life isn't making things any easier.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good Odds

**Author's Note:**

> If Love is a Mixtape... then life is the tracks you listen to. (each story was written while listening to one song on repeat, for however long it took. In the case of side A track 5, that means a 3 minute song on repeat for about 6 hours. *head bash*)
> 
> Side A: Bobby  
> Track 5: Lustra- Scotty Doesn't Know. If you substitute Fiona and me in the lyrics for John&Bobby, then it's all good

There are rules about having sex at the school. The list is short, and couldn't be more clear. Rule one: Don't. Rule two: Don't, because I'll catch you if you do. 

Rule two is good in theory. After all, with two adult telepaths in residence, it would be easy enough to monitor. In practice, it fails, as Scott is the only one to implement the rule. He knew better than to ask Logan for help. For anything. Jean Grey thinks the rules are hypocritical, as they met and fell in love in residence. Ororo, much to his consternation, has condoms available, if a student asks. And the professor finds almost all behaviour acceptable. When you can get into people's heads, you can understand their reasons.

Some laugh at the rule, knowing it will never apply to them. Rogue and Marrow find it the most amusing, both women can kill if their power manifests during sex. Some are too young to care, they barely understand the in's and out's. Some are satisfied to follow it, they can pass for normal well enough to find someone outside the school.

A select few students, however, seem to spend half their waking time trying to avoid Scott. Every time Bobby Drake misses his class, Scott wants to run around the school, and turn his red gaze on the boy's testicles. Not enough to kill him, just enough to make his testosterone run dry.

After a week of the Iceman being here, Scott knew there would be trouble. It only took a week for Bobby to be found in the back of the van- the school's property!- with St. John. All the teens in the automotive class blushed as the two put their pants back on. But did John and Bobby? No! Those two boys had no shame.

As soon as his class finished, he briskly walked to Charles' office, and requested that one of the two transfer rooms. The sort of obscenity they were up to had to be stopped. But Charles disagreed, and ever since, Scott's had to keep extra vigilant to prevent them from continuing their behaviour.

***

It's difficult to find a place to have privacy in a school where bedroom doors don't lock. Bobby has no problem with being creative, but sometimes it takes time to convince John it'll be okay. John demands to be in places they aren't going to get caught. Bobby doesn't understand why. No one cares. Well, except Mr Summers, who cares enough for all the teachers combined. But still, Bobby tries to indulge John, because if he doesn't then there's no sex at all. And that's just not okay.

The only rooms that do lock are the teachers rooms. John is positive it's a bad idea. Bobby disagrees. After all, teachers are teaching during the middle of the day. As long as they skip class, all the teachers should be occupied. 

They try each doorknob, until one opens. Walking in it's easy to tell it's Dr. Grey and Mr Summers' shared room. Bobby laughs for a moment at the irony, then closes the door. The other boy is nervous, and turns on the television. They're not the type to stay quiet, any noise from the tv helps to cover their noise.

John's anxiety is palpable, he's flipping channels too fast to hear more then a syllable at a time. He's always nervous before they have sex. Thirteen years being taught that homosexuals are disgusting horrible people that deserve to be murdered for going against God's ways- Bobby's got a lot of history to work through. It occurs to him that almost every mutant will have issues, and only a strong person will be able to deal with both that, and society's hatred. It's a depressing thought, so he does the same thing he does every time he thinks about it.

He runs full speed at John, and barrels him into a wall. A whoosh of expelled air comes from the brunet. Bobby gives him no time to recover, only presses his body tightly and begins a slow hungry kiss. John's gotten very good at breathing out of his nose since Bobby's arrived at the school.

John is still holding the remote when Bobby takes a step back. He looks at the tv, it's an evangelical lecturing on how mutants are spawn of the devil. Bobby tells him to change the channel, but the moment John hears the preacher he becomes transfixed, locked into the memories of his childhood. Bobby hates that, and does his best to distract him. He drops to his knees on the plain grey carpet, and with a quick movement undoes the boy's zipper. Just as his mouth descends, a voice inside his head-

NOT IN MY BEDROOM, ALRIGHT BOYS?

causes both boys to jolt. Thankfully in opposite directions, as nothing hurts more then a dick in the eye. Dr. Grey adds

AND FOR THAT MATTER, STAY OUT OF ALL THE TEACHER'S ROOMS.

It's odd having someone speaking inside your head. Mr Summers is probably used to it by now, but Bobby isn't sure he'll ever find it comfortable. He hopes it doesn't hurt her to know he thinks that. He asks inside his head, "please don't tell him?"

SCOTT DOESN'T NEED TO KNOW. NOW GO BACK TO CLASS.

She seems to leave their heads. Bobby stands, and kisses John deeply again. "We'll finish this later, okay? And no more listening to that shit. God doesn't know everything."

"That's a contradiction in terms," he replies, and so starts another one of a hundred identical arguments about religion, as they leave the bedroom.

***

The shopping trip weekends are supposed to be for just that, shopping. The institute owns more than one specially modified school bus, everyone that needs something hops on. Some children have money sent from their parents, most only have what they've 'earned' from chores. Bobby knows basic math, there's not a chance this school should be thriving, not well enough to give money to students every week. They must be living on donations, except who would donate to a school for mutants? 

He and John always get on the bus. Along with being anxious, his past has caused John to be a skinflint. In the two years Bobby's been at the school, he's never known John to spend a penny of the money he's gathered. Other students used to ask why they bothered to go, when neither ever comes home with any packages. They've stopped asking now.

They spend most of the day with the students around their age. It's nice to just sit at the food court and munch on a few shared cartons of supersized fries. Times like these, Bobby feels like the most average teenager one could be. But eventually he can feel John's knee bobbing under the table, and he knows what that means. The best way to get away is to say they're getting clothes. The idea of shopping for clothes with two gay men is like kryptonite for nearly all the male students. The only one that isn't bothered is Piotr, but he'd rather follow Kitty and Cypher around. Sometimes they're not even lying when they once again make the claim, Bobby might occasionally purchase a new shirt.

Being in a teen clothing store on the weekend is like being a bug in a pond. No one notices you, unless they're specifically looking. That's the way Bobby likes it. It makes everything easier.

He and John pick out clothes at random, usually not bothering to check for size. They aren't in West49 for clothes, they're there for the illusion of clothes. One slips into a stall and the other waits outside for a time. When most of the people waiting for their friends to model their possible purchases have left, to be replaced by an entirely new set, Bobby enters the unlocked stall. It takes much less stealth then one would think, only the patience to wait. 

By the time he gets to be beside John, the boy's already stripped his lower half. Bobby cringes at the idea of not wearing shoes on a mall store floor, but John doesn't seem to mind. The Zippo is clinking open and shut, a message to anyone speaking John-ese that he's thinking about how wrong this is again. Bobby hates those thoughts, but he doesn't know how to make them go away. The best he can do is distract them.

In the pocket of the jeans crumpled on the floor is a small bottle of lubricant. Ms. Munroe is kind about providing it along with the condoms. He doesn't know why it's her, not Dr. Grey, who really as the doctor should be providing the health methods. But he's grateful anyway. 

He hugs John close to him, and rubs the liquid on the fingers of one of John's hands. John reaches behind, and starts to prepare himself. His head drops on Bobby's shoulder, and all Bobby can do is hold him. The guilt and the heat are warring in John, and when the brunet thrusts forward Bobby knows he's won. He responds with a thrust back, and pretty soon all it would take is time for them to both come.

He doesn't want that. He wants to have sex. They so infrequently get to have sex. Scott does bed checks, and Bobby doesn't care about getting caught, it doesn't bother him at all. But when Scott lectures them about not having sex, he can tell it's the same sort of lectures John used to get, because John turns in on himself. His walls of fire and pride start to collapse. Bobby can't have that, he works every day to make sure those walls are strong enough to handle all the hate from the normal heterosexual humans. 

He lightly pushes John, who stumbles over his removed shoes to sit heavily on the bench. While he's still off balance, Bobby pulls up his legs. John starts to cry out, then understands and shuts up. The bench is a bit shorter than right height, but the booths are the biggest in the mall, big enough for two. The Gap can't boast that claim. John's fingers are smaller than Bobby's, his entire frame is smaller, so Bobby presses two in and takes a good look at John's face. All he sees is heat and excitement, so Bobby takes the time to step out of his jeans. His sneakers are still on. 

It only takes a few seconds to get into a rhythm, it takes a minute to remember he's not the only one getting off. He opens his eyes to look at John, judging by the closed eyes and hand around his dick, John's doing okay. Bobby goes back to thrusting.

IT'S FOUR O CLOCK, IT'S TIME TO GO BACK TO THE SCHOOL

rings through his head like a bomb going off. Bobby wants to scream, how dare professor Xavier interrupt them? "Fuck off, we'll be there in a minute," he shouts in his head. He doesn't know what John thinks at the professor, but it must have to do with not saying anything, because professor Xavier's response is

I SEE NO NEED TO DO SO. HOWEVER, I AM ASKING THAT YOU MAKE YOUR WAY TO THE BUS NOW.

Rage is always associated with red and flame, but Bobby thinks that's inaccurate. He's always mad, he just doesn't show it. Ice can be just as angry. Bobby does his best to throw up a mental block, aware that the professor could rip through it in a second. He's going to finish, they're going to finish, goddamn it, they're teenagers and sex is a vital part of their existence. His rhythm changes and he can tell John is more frantic too, they both have to finish before someone actually comes to gather them to the bus.

John's toes curl and he shoots, letting out a quieted moan. The bliss on his face triggers that unstoppable rush for Bobby, who comes less than a minute later. Thank God for Ms. Munroe, slipping the plastic sheaths off both of them makes cleanup of no concern. Bobby smiles a little as John does that awkward walk to collect his pants. There will be no question in any of the older student's minds, but he doesn't care. As long as no one says anything to John, they can think whatever they want. 

***

Closing the door and putting a chair underneath the knob is one of those useless gestures that nonetheless makes them both happier. At least at this school, there are more ways to come in then one could count. Laser down the door, burst through with strength, burst through with disregard for pain felt, phase through, fly through the window, telepathically force the person to remove the chair. Hell, Bobby himself could freeze and shatter the hinges, and John could burn the door to a crisp. Privacy is one of those things that just didn't jive.

But trying anyway, faking it even for a few minutes, is better than submitting. As mutants, as teenagers, as queers, there are many things they have to just let happen. Whatever can be fought for, will be.

At this point, three years in, Bobby has no idea why they still bother to crank the knob on the radio. Inevitably their neighbours to either side will realise the reason. If Sam and Cypher and Alison and Jubilee don't know that the top 100 songs are blasting to cover other incriminating noises by now, they are complete morons. He really doesn't care if anyone hears him, if they are jealous it's their problem. On the other hand, it seems to make John a bit less inhibited. That ends is worth practically any means.

John is splayed over Bobby's crisp sheets. He can see John's back arching, but what he can't see is much more promising. One hand is up the burgundy long sleeved shirt, one down the tight charcoal jeans. He isn't doing any more than teasing, playing. Bobby wants to play too.

Both of them are supposed to be at dinner. Neither care, starving a night is worth what can be done in that hour. Giving one last glance to the wedged door, Bobby joins his lover on his bed. He loves doing it on his bed, the smell seems to linger afterwards. He wishes he could bring John home the few holiday weekends he has to go home. If his bed at home smelled like John, he thinks he could cope better with keeping all the other secrets.

He's straddling John, and he can't help but rub his hand on the outside of his jeans. It's like a perverted way of holding hands, inside and outside the denim. He leans forward and suddenly John's tongue is in his mouth. Bobby blames it on the music, thanks the music for making John comfortable, hates the music because the only way John is comfortable is when he feels hidden. John's hands move to wrap around his back, it's more a snuggle then anything erotic. It's moments like these where Bobby almost feels comfortable enough to say I love you.

The track changes, and with it so does the mood. For the first time in ages, John shoves against him, using his smaller weight strategically to flip them. Bobby's not used to being the one on his back, it's disconcerting. John is pulling off his jeans, Bobby arches his back so they can be moved down his hips. He can't remember the last time John rode him, but the image in his mind makes his hand drift to his cock.

"Do it, come on," he murmurs. It doesn't matter that John doesn't even have his jeans off, he can't wait. He wants John to be touching him now.

John stands and wrestles out of his shirt and pants, the fabric seems out to thwart them. It's taking way too long, Bobby knows he's muttering "come on, come on, come on," but he can't stop. The idea of John being in control, actually wanting to be in control, it's brilliant. It's like he's finally rejected all the fear and self-loathing. A proud John Allerdyce is the hottest thing on this planet.

Generally Bobby likes to get them both ready. It's like foreplay, spreading lubricant and the ripping noise the condom package makes. Tonight it's not, it's all a form of torture. John seems to have the same idea, way before Bobby would push in John sits, thighs clenching. Bobby's eyes roll in the back of his head, and if he passes out for a second, well, he's to be forgiven.

John is moving too quickly, at this point it's a struggle every movement to not come. But he can't ask, because he can't speak coherently. He doesn't think he would ask anyway.

There's a knock at the door, and Bobby's first reaction is to consider bursting into tears. He doesn't know why this has to happen EVERY SINGLE TIME. It has to be because God hates him. The mutant thing, or the gay thing, or maybe he just doesn't like blonds, and that's the secret of getting into heaven, and all religions have it wrong.

"What!" John yells.

"It's dinner." It's the gruff voice of Logan, and why the fuck does he care? He's gotten domestic, staying at the mansion.

"We know!" John replies, and the irritation is ringing out through his voice. 

Bobby knows the best way to get busted is to piss off a teacher enough that they demand entrance into the room. Thinking quickly he comes up with a plausible answer. "We're just finishing homework. We'll be down when we're done."

"The lights are off," Logan comments, and far from John's anger he seems amused.

Bobby can't deny it, it's obviously true. It's twilight, and the setting sky coming in the window is enough to add light to the room. They both like the contrast of shadow and light, when they have any sort of choice. It's too dangerous to have a room lit by candles, but open windows in the evening suffice. Instead of denying, he scrambles for an even remotely plausible reason. "We were resting our eyes."

Judging by the snort Pyro tries to muffle, it's a horrible reason. The brunet silently laughing while still surrounding him is causing intense vibrations. Feeling this should be wonderful, but in this circumstance, trying not to come, knowing that doing so results in the inevitable screams and moans; it's pure torture. Yet another ding in the 'God hates me' column.

"We've been reading in class all day, then we had to write an essay. Our eyes are strained. I don't want to have to get glasses." He's aware of how bitchy he sounds, and if he gets detention later so be it. As long as Logan _goes away_.

"Right then. Have fun with that essay. And don't forget to grab condoms from Ms. Munroe." Outside the door the man chuckles, and Bobby's lucky he's pinned to the bed. Otherwise he'd be getting up and might get hurt while Logan holds him off with a single finger, when Bobby tries to deck him. Good of John, to keep him safe.

Bad of John though, to be giggling so hard. Through his laughter he manages "He can smell us, you moron." Bobby forgot about that part of Logan's mutation. 

When John starts rocking again, he decides he doesn't care about God. Who would, when they have this?

***

The new bitch has made another biting comment, and it's all Bobby can do to stop himself from freezing her into a giant cube. According to Alison, she's from the south, and they don't really like The Gays down there. Bobby doesn't give a flying telepathic crap about what Southerners do or don't like. All he cares about is counteracting the thirteen years John was submerged in hate. Having this bitch come and repeat it all is helping no one.

It wasn't like they offended Miss I'm a Bigot by doing anything racy. It was lunch, everyone was in the dining hall eating. John had a smear of the chocolate cake dessert on his cheek, and Bobby leaned over to kiss him on the other cheek. He barely whispered "so you'll be sweet all over", like mushy sentimental girl, before Miss Bitch started drama with a loud "Ewwwwww."

And really, it all went downhill from there. Bobby had wanted nothing more then to hurt her, but also according to Alison, she was untouchable. Literally, she had gotten here because she kissed and killed a guy. So amidst the whisperings, and Jubilee standing and calling out Rogue for the bigot she was- 'and don't think I didn't notice your sideways looks at the scary asian girl!' - Bobby had grabbed John's hand, and they had left.

And now they're here, and a sheen of ice is forming over the cold snow. Bobby's so mad he's not even blinking, just staring into the air.

"Look, it's okay. It's not like I haven't heard it before."

"You shouldn't have ever heard it. You shouldn't ever have to hear it again!" John being resigned to being teased and hated is not something he ever wants to know about. Every cell in his body is participating in an epic battle: which is more important, revenge on the bitch, or hugging and comforting John? Ultimately, he already knows he won't do either. He can't attack Rogue, and boys don't say I love you. But both ideas are ideals he wish he could live to.

"It's okay Bobby. Really." It's not helping, the placating is making him even angrier. The branches of the nearby trees are drooping from the weight of the ice beginning to coat them.

"No, it's not. IT'S NOT OKAY!" he screams, and the ice is jagged and ripping through his veins.

Bobby can see he's freaking John out, the brunet is juggling a ball of flame from hand to hand, pacing. But he can't stop being angry, because it's just not right. Things are supposed to be right.

"Dude, things might never be okay. Get over it. Okay?" It's a stab to the heart, to know that John actually believes that they can never be happy. Not for the first time, he wishes John's family dead. He doesn't know if they are, that's something John's never told him. But with all his might, he wishes they were dead, and it hurt.

He's pacing too now, his hands running through his longish hair, then pulling on the tips. Most of the strands are coated in ice, it's better then any gel for strength. He thinks in the summer he might have had to go to one of the control rooms. It's winter though, and just being in the frigid air usually helps.

John draws back the ball of flame, and strides over to him. His hands are on both shoulders, and Bobby tries his best to control himself, to not freeze John to himself. "Look, stop it. Stop hoping, stop dreaming about how things could be, might have been. They're not. Deal with it." John kisses him, and winces at the subzero saliva.

"You could have been happy," he whispers, and begins to make the mewling noises he does when he's upset. He can't cry, it would rip his eyes apart, but he can still feel pain.

"I am happy, you fucking idiot." John pushes him and Bobby falls into the snow. It's almost like a blanket to him. John carefully lies on top of him, trying to touch as little snow as possible. His boyfriend doesn't fair well in the cold, he can tell John is doing this for him. 

John's face is on his, every word is spoken into his cheekbone. "You're trying too hard. I grew up with people that didn't like anything that I turned out to be. Many people in the world don't like what we turned out to be. Sometimes I feel like shit because I know that I'm not liked for what I am. But sometimes I don't feel like shit. So Bobby, you can be with me when I feel good, and if you want you can be with me when I feel horrible. But you don't need to make me happy."

The cold on his back is soothing him, a strong contrast to John's words. For the first time though, Bobby thinks John doesn't feel hopeless. It's a terrible fear for Bobby, to think that someday all John will hear and feel are his parents words, and John will hurt himself. But when he says it this way, it's different. It's still upsetting, it's still wrong that all these people hate for no reason. But it's maybe not as terrible as he thought.

The courtyard is generally empty in the winter, yet somehow Bobby isn't surprised when he can hear the ice crunch under someone's shoes. He looks around as best as he can still plastered to the ground. The shoes are tall black boots, and there's only one wearer of tall black boots at this school.

John scrambles to his feet, and Bobby sighs. It's still ingrained into John that they're doing something wrong. That lesson might not ever fully go away. He stands. The back of all of his clothes are soaking wet, but he doesn't feel the cold of the wind hitting the wet fabric against his back.

"Boys, if you ever need a place to get away from others," Storm doesn't finish her sentence, but her meaning is clear.

"I don't think we'll be hiding much anymore, m'am." Bobby's a bit surprised at John saying that. He didn't think they were hiding before, just avoiding those that would make John more doubting and self-loathing.

"But if you do." She looks them both in the eye, and they nod. Four teachers accept, and one hates. Those are pretty good odds.


End file.
